Winterfall
by Cello Monroe
Summary: Beacon has fallen. Ozpin is gone. The world has descended into unprecedented chaos. Neige is a rogue huntress bearing a heavy burden and secret. Having sworn her loyalty to Ozpin and Qrow, she awaits for Ozpin's return in the mountains of Anima and spends her days hunting down any grim she can find. A year after the fall of Beacon, she finally receives a message from Ozpin


Prologue

I got to Beacon too late.

By the time I got there, the battle was over. I found myself looking over the remains of a defeated city—defeated both physically and spiritually. Debris from damaged buildings littered the streets, along with the corpses of victims killed by the grim and those Atlesian knight _things_ Ironwood brought to Vale with him.

Every now and then, I can hear the cry of a rogue grim yet to be killed and hunters and huntresses firing killing shots. Then silence. A terrible, haunting silence coming from a city that had been vibrant and busy for as long as I can remember.

And behind me, there's an even more horrific sight. Against the sunset, the magnificent towers of Beacon are silhouettes—an image usually worthy of postcards, an image of power and security that always made Vale seem safe. But now, they are towers of despair. They are fallen empty towers, with the body of a Grimm Dragon draped over what once was the CCT, unmoving.

I was too late. Once again, I was too late.

Instead of walking into a battle where I had a chance to make a difference, I've walked into carnage that I can't do anything about. My power as a huntress is useless once the battle is over.

It's cold up on the rooftop of the building I'm on. The wind whips my clothes and hair, stinging my cheeks red with its freezing air. I pull my brother's scarf tighter around me, covering my mouth and nose.

My brother's scarf. He gave it to me the last time I was home; or rather, he had left it with me. He didn't give it to me in person; he had left it on my bedside table whilst I was unconscious with note congratulating me on my victory in the Vytal Festival.

My brother. My sweet, sweet younger brother, with a heart too big for his own good. It's been years since I'd seen him. He was eleven, maybe twelve years old then. I must've scared him back then, seeing me wounded, bandaged up and broken.

Though I didn't scare him enough. He still followed my footsteps and enrolled at Beacon.

My eyes turn to the streets once more. I don't know what I'm looking for. A familiar face? There's not a soul out right now, asides from the distant huntsmen. Some grim to kill? I should be elsewhere—closer to the academy, perhaps. Or maybe some sign of the Vale I knew as a student at Beacon all of those years ago?

The last is a false dream. The Vale from my student days is dead. It died before my very eyes, and I couldn't do anything to save it.

Behind me, I hear the rush of a bird's wings sweeping over the building.

Then the pattering of footsteps. I pretend I don't hear him coming and keep my eyes glued to the empty streets before him.

"I thought you were ordered to stay away from Beacon, Neige."

"I'm not an Atlesian soldier nor an Atlesian citizen. Ironwood has no authority over me."

I turn to face the man behind me.

Qrow Branwen looms over me from the ledge, frowning as he looks down on me. His ragged cape flaps behind him in the incoming winter wind.

He looks exhausted—dark circles under his eyes, patches of stubble and dirt dotting his face, like he hasn't slept or is extremely hungover. Probably both.

"I'm not going to argue with that, but he did have a point," he sighs gruffly. "How long have you been here?"

"I just got here. I came as quickly as I could."

"So, I assume you saw what happened at the Vytal Festival."

This takes me by surprise. I knew that the Vytal Festival was going on, but I didn't watch any of it. Despite participating in it and winning it six years ago, I found it to be foolish now—it was child's play compared to life outside the four academies. So I didn't watch, even though my brother most likely fought in it this year.

Why was Qrow bringing it up now? I feel my heart lurch at his expression.

"No, I didn't watch any of it. Why, Qrow?"

Qrow doesn't say anything.

"Qrow! What happened?" I say, much more urgently.

"If you didn't watch the tournament, how did you know to come here?"

I stop for a second. Then, slowly, I bring my hand up to the patch that covered my left eye.

"I saw the grim heading toward the city. Tons of them. Way too many for any guards or patrols to handle on their own. And then yesterday…"

I think of the shooting, agonizing pain that shot through my eye. It was probably the moment the attack on Vale began.

"Never mind how I got here," I say. "Answer my question: what happened at the Vytal festival? What happened here?"

"What do you know?"

His aversion to the question infuriates me. He clearly doesn't want me to know. He doesn't want me to fight, even though I specialize in fighting grim, even thought I'd be fighting for my alma mater.

He's trying to protect me, even after all this time. Even after I've seen what Salem is capable of. Even after I've seen the wreckage of Vale after the grim attack.

Meaning there's something he thinks I won't be able to handle.

My heart stops. My hand reaches up to the scarf around my neck.

No. Impossible.

Please, no.

Not him.

"My brother," I say. "Qrow, no…"

"Is safe. He's safe and accounted for. I checked myself."

My heart relaxes a little. I let go of my scarf and let my hand fall limp at my side.

"Now, will you tell me what you know already? Time's a wasting, and I don't want to fill you in on stuff you already know."

He still has that grave look on his face.

"Just the rumors," I tell him. "Grim, the White Fang. Atlas… attacking innocent people. I heard something about students from Haven being responsible for it, and… a bright light from Beacon tower."

Qrow just nods, his eyes on the remnants of Beacon tower. He doesn't deny any of it.

"I can only guess what happened, Qrow. I need to hear the details—the facts—from you, no matter what they may be."

Then a thought occurs to me. Why is it Qrow here, bearing the responsibility of telling me what's happened, and not Ozpin?

Where is Ozpin?

A lump forms in my throat. Is this what Qrow was trying to hide from me?

"Ozpin… he's gone, isn't he?"

Qrow is quiet for a second.

"No," he says. He reaches for his belt and pulls out something attached to his waist.

Ozpin's staff.

"Don't underestimate him, Neige. He's not gone. He's just gone off on his own again. He'll find a way back to us soon enough."

I just nod. Qrow and I were two of the few who knew about Ozpin—a secret he entrusted us when we vowed our loyalty to him.

Of the few who knew about Ozpin's…. history…. We were probably the only one who still had complete faith in him. Others had betrayed him. And the rest…well, they have yet to betray him, but they also have yet to prove their loyalty also

We already know who our enemies are. It's the people who haven't decided their loyalties yet that we have to worry about.

Qrow takes his flask out of his pocket and takes a big long swig from it.

"So you want me to tell you everything, right? Then let's begin."

I know better than to ask questions as he tells me everything. I wait for him to lay out everything to me before interrogating him.

It's personal—for both of us. He tells me about some of the casualties—his oldest niece losing her arm, his younger activating her eyes and falling into a coma after most-likely watching her classmate die. He tells me what little he knows about my brother and his team.

He tells me about Amber, how her aura had been fractured and her powers stolen. How the guardians kept her just barely alive and were planning to fuse her aura with that of another girl's.

He tells me about the last fight of the tournament, how he believes it was rigged so that a student from beacon—the very candidate for the new autumn maiden—was forced to use her semblance to destroy Penny Polendina.

He tells me about the grim, the white fang, the Atlesian soldiers, the fall of the CCT. He tells me everything.

When he finishes telling me, I find myself both seething and grieving. People I know are gone, and others are not who I thought they were. People who were supposed to be trusted—Ironwood, namely—made fools of themselves and had kept secrets that led to all of our demises. Vale, Atlas, and all the hunters who were worth something, were humiliated and exploited in a single night.

I don't say anything for a while. I just look out to a destroyed Vale, once the vibrant city of my dreams, now abandoned as the stray grim creeps down its streets. I look out to a crumbling Beacon, once my home, now slowly being crushed underneath the weight of a dark grim.

I can feel Qrow watching me, waiting for a reaction of some sort. He's always perceived me as sensitive, as someone who needs protecting, since the day we met. I find it both touching and irritating.

"What do you think?" he asks me finally, eyes still on me.

I take a deep breath and pull my scarf up higher and tighter. I stand up and turn to him, looking him right in the eye.

"I'm thinking 'what are my orders'".

His eyes widen in surprise. "Shouldn't you be asking Ironwood that?"

"Like I said, I'm under no obligation to take orders from him. He can't and will not boss me around, especially now."

"You shouldn't be too hard on him, Neige. He's not mal—"

"I only take orders from Ozpin," I state, talking over him.

"Oz isn't here."

"No, but you've got his staff. I'll take orders from whoever holds it."

Qrow holds up the staff and looks at it. I know he's thinking of Ozpin, wondering where and who he is right now.

I'm thinking the same. I'm thinking of all the people who aren't here any more, who saw a battle they never should've seen—my brother, Penny, Amber, Qrow's nieces.

And the people I didn't know too—the girl who was supposed to be the Fall maiden, Pyrrha. I wonder what kind of maiden she would've made out to be.

But I'm also somewhat glad that, in the end, she didn't have to carry that burden. That she wasn't condemned to the life of the maidens.

"So," I repeat. "What are my orders?"


End file.
